


that one very good morning will dry your eyes (you awake at dawn with a dozen roses)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Rock Around the October (Rocktober 2020) [3]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fallen Angel, Breakfast, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Religious Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26818336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: John's first morning as a Fallen Angel, Roger just wants to help.
Relationships: John Deacon & Roger Taylor
Series: Rock Around the October (Rocktober 2020) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952968
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	that one very good morning will dry your eyes (you awake at dawn with a dozen roses)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Grass  
> I couldn't decide on what to fill so I chose to play in this alternate universe again, oh well. Please Enjoy!!

When he wakes he is up confused. The sky is blue – not a star in sight. He blinks, he had never seen the sun, but he thought it cast light not shadow. He blinks again and notices that he is starting at a face and not the sky.

“Well, you aren’t dead,” the human says.

He shakes his head and regrets the movement as he makes the whole world shake. No, the human doesn’t seem affected so it has to be his head. Instead, the angel tries to push himself upright and onto his feet only to overbalance he tries to stretch his wings out but they aren’t there and he topples over into the ground, except for the firm hand of the human on his shoulder.

“You look like you’ve had a good night,” the human tilts his head.

The blond hair falls across the human’s face and he gets a glance of the memory – golden strands, dark curls, warm brown eyes.

“Maybe a bad one?” The human frowns, “man, who leaves their friend when they’re having a bad trip.”

Does this human know he Fell?

“What’s your name?”

He opens his mouth and pauses – he can’t use his angel name anymore, “Jo –” he coughs, “John?”

“John?” The human grins, “Are you sure?”

He takes a second to sound out the name in his head, it feels good – which is the first time he has felt that since waking up, “yes.”

The laugh is warm and John’s face heats up. Yes. He does like this name.

“I’m Roger,” the human – no Roger – sticks his hand out.

John stares at it in confusion. Roger purses his lip before shaking his head and dropping his hand down to his pocket. He watches the human kick at the grass.

“Say, I’d feel bad leaving you out here before you sober up,” Roger says.

He frowns, “sober up”? What on Earth does that mean? Is it like when angels have too much Human Virtue and they have to dry out on Garden duty – why do they even still guard the Garden?

His stomach growls and he looks down in shock before panicking. He knows that Falling makes one lose their wings but what is this noise? Is he going to die? He is technically immortal but what if Earth doesn’t settle well with him. John presses a hand to his stomach and looks at Roger.

“Uh,” Roger blinks, “maybe you need a bit more than breakfast to sober you up, but let's start there.”

“Sure,” John chokes out, he doesn’t know what humans eat.

“Great, I know a place with the best hangover meals,” Roger says before stepping back, “I’ll pay.”

“Thank you,” John nods.

They move through the crowds. John jumps at every noise, staring at the pollution that the cars stir up and how many humans are still _pure_ the First Rebellion goal seems to be failing – or perhaps this is where humans are all innocent.

John hates walking, also. It's slow. Roger is talking about things he doesn’t understand – why are the Beetles so loved and how did they get one to hold a guitar? They wander through a shopping district for a while before Roger gestures to a door with his thumb.

“Here we are,” Roger grins.

“Ah, thank you.”

They walk in and John sniffs – it smells good. Nothing like he has ever smelled before and when he takes a seat he is confused by the stickiness of the table.

"Not the best hygiene, but the food makes up for it – their kitchen is good and it's cheap,” Roger explains.

“Roger, on a Wednesday?” One woman says.

“Helping out a friend,” Roger answers, “do you mind getting us two black coffees?”

She nods, “comin’ right up, the usual for you?”

“Absolutely,” Roger bats his eyes.

“And you’re friend?”

Roger turns to look at him, “what do you want?”

John scrambles to grab the menu behind the napkins and the picks the first thing his eyes land on, “the cheese on toast?”

“Classic,” Roger nods, “should help. Now, John, want to tell me the story of how you ended up in the middle of a park in Kensington?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr!


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